Yesterday we said goodbye.
To a larger than life presence in our backyard.
Always looking over us.
Sheltering us.
Growing alongside us.
She lived a good life.
90 plus years.
Her fragile state…
…and proximity to those around her
Made the difficult decision for us.
Lay her down easy.
Lay her down.
Sometimes we're just way too close to the problem.
A slight change in perspective may be all that we need.
An everyday view.
From our everyday kitchen.
Finn.
In HIS spot.
Me washing dishes.
Loving this dog.
He always senses me.
Sees me to the core.
Wondering how many times I’ll do this again.
Grateful for each one.
Spoiled by his love.
I used to write in a notebook with a pen.
I read something somewhere that said that doing that was better for my brain.
Now I find myself thumbing words into Google Keep.
Quicker.
Closer.
Ready whenever I am.
Sorry brain.
Days when I write are better.
I can’t explain it.
Maybe I can.
Getting words out, whichever ones are at the surface…
…provides more space for others to bounce around.
An overflow valve of sorts.
Often needed when I’m stuck in a loop…
…thinking about one thing or another.
Reading them back to myself.
Therapeutic.
Resonating with others.
Comforting.
Yesterday I finished reading A Heart that Works by Rob Delaney.
…and damn it, the tears flowed.
After, all of my worries seemed trivial.
A parent’s worst nightmare — losing a child.
I’m gut punched and eviscerated.
Grateful to have read Henry’s story.
Changed somehow…again.
Feeling the palpable pain and love of his
Dad thru words I may have never known…
…if he chose not to share them.
Finding myself echoing familiar things…
…like a skipping record
Family is everything.
The everyday is everything.